Page 857 - the-three-musketeers

‘Well, where the devil are you going now?’ cried Athos.
‘It is he!’ cried d’Artagnan, pale with anger, and with the
sweat on his brow, ‘it is he! let me overtake him!’
‘He? What he?’ asked Athos.
‘He, that man!’
‘What man?’
‘That cursed man, my evil genius, whom I have always
met with when threatened by some misfortune, he who ac-
companied that horrible woman when I met her for the first
time, he whom I was seeking when I offended our Athos,
he whom I saw on the very morning Madame Bonacieux
was abducted. I have seen him; that is he! I recognized him
when the wind blew upon his cloak.’
‘The devil!’ said Athos, musingly.
‘To saddle, gentlemen! to saddle! Let us pursue him, and
we shall overtake him!’
‘My dear friend,’ said Aramis, ‘remember that he goes in
an opposite direction from that in which we are going, that
he has a fresh horse, and ours are fatigued, so that we shall
disable our own horses without even a chance of overtaking
him. Let the man go, d’Artagnan; let us save the woman.’
‘Monsieur, monsieur!’ cried a hostler, running out and
looking after the stranger, ‘monsieur, here is a paper which
dropped out of your hat! Eh, monsieur, eh!’
‘Friend,’ said d’Artagnan, ‘a half-pistole for that paper!’
‘My faith, monsieur, with great pleasure! Here it is!’
The hostler, enchanted with the good day’s work he had
done, returned to the yard. D’Artagnan unfolded the pa-
per.

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